by Anne Bishop
“Oh.”
They looked at him.
Jared gave them a cold, hard stare.
Their eyes dropped to the hand he was still rubbing. Both of them shifted on the benches, putting them a little closer to Blaed.
“We’re sorry we bit you, Jared,” Lia said meekly, glancing at him through her lashes.
“You’re not the only one who got hurt,” Thera complained, rubbing her shin. “I slammed my leg into something miserably hard.”
“Yes,” Jared said coldly. “Mine.”
“Oh.” After an awkward silence, Thera huffed and pushed her hair back. “Well, I doubt anyone’s going to have the balls to ask questions about what happened.”
Blaed growled.
“Except you two,” Thera added, regarding Blaed with respectful wariness. “Which was the point.”
Blaed’s muscles seemed to swell with the anger he was holding in.
Jared’s eyes narrowed. Where was the fury that had made Thera and Lia tear into each other? Their tempers couldn’t have cooledthat fast. But they were sitting there like friends who had had a minor spat instead of . . .
“You did this deliberately,” Jared said slowly. “You scared the shit out of all of us deliberately.”
“Of course,” Lia replied, looking surprised. “Thera and I realized we had to shift everyone’s attention away from the explosion so that no one would ask about it until we had time to figure out what happened.”
“You lied to us.”
“We didn’t lie,” Lia said indignantly. “We were pretending to have a fight in order to create a distraction.”
His mind understood the distinction between “lie” and “pretend,” but his emotions weren’t interested in being that picky.
“The fight did provide a reason for the explosion,” Thera said.
“And we used Craft to make sure our voices carried far enough so that everyone in the group would know,” Lia added.
Jared forced his teeth apart before he cracked some of them. A few seconds. That’s all it had taken for one of them to send a thought to the other. Something like, We have to do something to keep the males from asking questions. “You planned this in the time it took for you to get to your feet, but you couldn’t take a few more seconds to send a communication thread to Blaed and me to tell us?” He smacked a fist against the door, causing both women to jump. “You just started flinging out insults and tearing into each other without a thought about how we’d feel. You used Craft so that everyone could hear—”
The air in the wagon chilled. He saw the shift in their eyes. They’d been willing to placate him up to a point, and he’d reached it.
“You forget yourself, Warlord,” Lia said coldly. “A Queen doesn’t have to explain herself to any man.”
True, Jared thought, but hadn’t he earned a little consideration?
Lia’s expression softened. “If we’d told both of you it was an act, you wouldn’t have responded the same way. Not emotionally. And the other males would have wondered why.”
Jared couldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t say anything.
“Besides,” Thera added with deadly calm, “you responded to it even though you knew what had happened back there. In fact, you know better than the rest of us. What exactly was Garth trying to destroy, Jared?”
Jared shuddered as it came rushing back, making him realize how right they’d been about a witch fight shifting the focus of the males’ attention. “Buttons,” he said hoarsely. “Three brass buttons. He was smashing them with a stone.”
Thera nodded. “Metal holds a spell fairly well.”
“What’s the point of having exploding buttons?” Blaed asked.
“A weapon,” Lia said.
Thera shook her head. “The explosion happened because Jared tried to probe them—or maybe because I cut through the tangled web closing around Jared’s inner barriers.”
Lia paled, and Jared felt a swift, light brush against his inner barriers—a feminine touch seeking reassurance that he was all right.
“The buttons must have had another use,” Thera said. “The explosion and the tangled web were there to prevent anyone who didn’t have the key from finding out what they were being used for. I wish we had one of them intact to study.”
A chill went through Jared. “Could they be used to track us?”
Thera shrugged. “Sure. A drawing spell, a summoning spell. Either of those can be fine-tuned so that anyone who wasn’t looking for a specific signal wouldn’t notice it.”
Lia nodded thoughtfully. “And using a button is very clever. Even if someone noticed it, who would think twice about a brass button lying beside the road? You’d just think it fell off someone’s coat. You might pick it up—”
“No.” Jared realized he’d been rubbing his hand against his thigh. “They feel slimy. No one would keep it after touching it.”
“Garth did,” Lia pointed out.
Jared took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Garth had one the day we left the clearing. The day we reached the creek. Randolf had been trying to get it away from him. Garth had his hand closed, behind his back. I don’t know if Randolf knew what Garth was holding or simply wanted to be difficult because he hates Garth.”
“What happened to the button?” Thera asked, watching him sharply.
“Garth gave it to me. Then Randolf took it out of my hand and threw it into the bushes. He said Garth was tainted. He said maybe Garth wasn’t as mind-damaged as he seems.” Jared swallowed hard. “I began to wonder about one of us being a pet even before—” He stopped, remembering in time that Lia hadn’t told anyone else about the wrongness she felt.
“I think it’s time I had a little talk with Garth,” Thera said grimly. “But I’ll need an excuse to be alone with him, something that won’t make anyone wonder why I want to see him right after the explosion.”
“He was bleeding,” Blaed said quietly.
“That would do it. The bad-tempered Queen making me patch up the male hurt by my careless spell.”
“A tangled web like the one that almost entangled Jared means a fully trained Black Widow,” Lia said softly.
“I know,” Thera replied.
The two women stared at each other.
“I didn’t mean what I said about your not having skill,” Lia said. Then she glanced at Blaed. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
A wicked twinkle lit Thera’s eyes. She slanted a look at Jared. “And I didn’t mean what I said about your interfering with the spell—or being a sexless bitch.”
When Thera didn’t add anything, Lia blushed.
Jared decided that Thera had being a younger sister down pat. “I’d feel better if we could put some distance between us and anyone who might become curious about an unleashing. Can we move the wagon while you’re doing this?”
Thera nodded. “Keep the others away from it though. In case I trigger something.”
Blaed jerked. “What do you mean—” He snarled at Lia when she started pulling him toward the door.
Jared snarled at him.
“Well,” Thera said dryly, “a pissing contest between you two ought to keep everyone occupied.”
As soon as Lia was clear of the steps, Jared pushed Blaed out the door. Then he looked at Thera, said, “He gets to fuss tonight,” and closed the door before she could throw something at him.
Thayne had joined the children and the saddle horses, trying to soothe all of them—not an easy task since Randolf kept pacing and throwing dark looks at the wagon and Garth. Blaed stood an arm’s length from Lia, looking sulky. Still and silent, Brock kept his distance from everyone.
Jared met Brock’s eyes for a moment, then turned his attention to Lia, who was staring at Garth as if she’d like to gut him.
“Garth!” Lia’s voice had a whiplash sharpness that made every man flinch. “Into the wagon. That arm needs tending.”
Garth shifted his feet but didn’t come forward.
“
Garth!”
Garth’s pale blue eyes focused on Jared.
“Go on, Garth,” Jared said, keeping his voice firm but kind. “The arm needs tending.”
Cautiously circling around Lia, Garth entered the wagon.
“Let’s move out,” Lia said. “Thayne, you lead the team. Corry and Cathryn, you ride the mare. Tomas, you and Eryk take turns leading her. When you get tired, switch.”
“Yes, Lady,” Tomas said solemnly.
“I may not like him,” Randolf said, “but if you let that Black Widow bitch tend Garth, he’s liable to walk out of that wagon with one arm instead of two.”
Lia took a swing at Randolf, only missing because he jerked his chin back at the same time Jared grabbed her.
“Whatever problem I have with her is my business, but you’d damn well better remember that she outranks you, Warlord.”
Swearing under his breath, Jared dragged Lia over to the bay gelding. “That’s enough,” he growled. “Don’t confuse them to the point of panic.”
“I wasn’t trying to confuse him,” Lia said through gritted teeth. “I was trying to hit him.”
Jared boosted her into the saddle, then handed the reins to Blaed before he stormed back to Randolf. The only thing that kept him from throwing a punch of his own was Brock joining them. He settled for a searing look that made Randolf shift uneasily.
“Tempers are running hot right now,” Jared said. “If they get any hotter, it’s going to be real uncomfortable for us. So keep your tongue and your temper leashed.”
“This really started over some messed-up spell?” Brock asked.
Jared caught a flicker of worry underneath Brock’s bland tone. Understandable, certainly. If he hadn’t seen the two of them in the wagon, hadn’t been told straight out the fight had been staged, he’d be more than a little worried, too, about having two Green-Jeweled witches going for each other’s throats.
“Guess so,” Jared said, shrugging. “I was just tucking myself back into my pants when Thera came rushing toward me, yelling at me to run. It didn’t seem like a good time to start asking questions. And after . . .” Jared rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.
Brock snorted. “The whole damn Territory probably heard that.” He paused, snorted again, then gave Randolf a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Come on. We’ll take point. No sense riling things up more than they are.”
Jared waited until the two guards were moving up the road before returning to Lia.
*Everything all right?* Blaed asked, handing the reins to Jared.
*For now,* Jared replied.
*I’ll stay behind the wagon and keep on eye on things.*
*Thera wants . . . * Seeing the look in Blaed’s eyes, Jared let it go. Blaed the man might care a great deal about what Thera wanted, but Blaed the Warlord Prince would do whatever he felt was necessary—regardless of what Thera wanted.
Nodding to acknowledge Blaed’s choice, Jared mounted behind Lia and gave Thayne the signal to move on.
They were right, he thought as he wrapped one arm protectively around Lia’s waist. He’d never admit it to either of them, but, damn them, they were right. He wouldn’t have responded the same way if they’d told him the fight was an act. They shouldn’t have needed to tell him. If he hadn’t been so mentally scrambled, he should have realized it after the first shouted exchange.
And a Queen didn’t have to explain herself to any man, even the ones who served in her First Circle. Lia was right about that, too. A Queen might talk to all of her First Circle about the day-to-day concerns of the court, but there were also circumstances when only her Steward and Master of the Guard were told why something was required. Sometimes she didn’t even tell them.
Blind trust was part of the price of service, and the day a male couldn’t give that kind of trust to his Queen was the day when, in his heart, he no longer served.
Jared understood that, had been raised to accept it.
But he didn’t have to like it.
An hour later, Garth left the wagon, looking dazed.
Half an hour after that, there was still no sign of Thera.
Jared handed the gelding over to Tomas, then hurried to the back of the wagon to join Lia and Blaed.
They found Thera curled up on one of the benches, shaking.
“Cold,” she said as Blaed raised her to a sitting position and Lia wrapped her in spell-warmed blankets. “So cold.”
“Whiskey would help,” Jared said, settling on the other bench to get out of the way.
Blaed called in two bottles of whiskey. He handed one to Jared, opened the other, and helped Thera take a couple of swallows since she was shaking too hard to hold the bottle.
Jared offered the other bottle to Lia. After shuddering through a couple of sips, she handed the bottle back and settled next to him on the bench. He took a healthy swallow, hoping it would soothe nerves frayed from waiting.
Thera pressed her face against Blaed’s shoulder and continued to shake. Blaed held her tightly, murmuring reassurances while he coaxed more whiskey into her.
“I need to wash,” Thera said plaintively. “I need to wash.”
“Soon,” Blaed promised. “I’ll heat some water and help you.”
When Thera didn’t protest, Blaed raised worried eyes to Jared.
Jared shared the worry, and not just because he liked Thera and was concerned about her. She was a strong witch, and something that could shake her this badly was a danger to all of them.
Lia held out her hand. Thera grabbed it.
In the confined space, Jared felt power flow between them—not just the power of the Jewels and Craft, but the power of the feminine, strength anchoring strength.
Thera’s shallow breathing eased, became deeper. She took another sip of whiskey. “Garth knows.”
“Do you?” Lia asked quietly.
Thera started shaking again. Her hand clamped on Lia’s.
“Tell us what you can,” Lia urged. “We’ll deal with the rest.”
Thera took a deep breath. “Garth knows.” Pressing closer to Blaed, she stared at Jared as if each kind of contact was a thread that helped anchor her.
Slipping off the bench, Jared knelt beside her, keeping his eyes locked to hers.
“It’s not like the tangled web that almost trapped you,” Thera told him. “It’s less and more and worse.”
Jared nodded.
“It’s like someone rooted a psychic weed inside Garth’s inner barriers that produced runners that could cover an area with voracious speed. Some of the runners went down below his inner web and then turned upward outside his barriers, forming a tangled net to keep him locked in. Other runners spread out inside his barriers, so he’s doubly caught.”
“What did you do?” Lia asked, watching Thera intently.
Thera licked her lips. “I—Mother Night, Lia, the mind that created that is so vile, so obscene.” It took her a minute before she could continue. “There’s great anger inside him. He must have tried to rip the runners away from the root because I noticed that he could open his first inner barrier a little. So I cut away the tangle surrounding his inner barriers and then . . .”
“You squeezed through that little opening, not knowing how fast that ‘weed’ might reclaim its ground, to clear a path to wherever Garth had retreated within himself,” Lia said, her voice flattened by anger.
“You would have done the same thing,” Thera said defensively.
She would have, Jared thought, and couldn’t choke back the snarl.
“I don’t think what I cut will grow back. I think that’s why something was added to make his psychic scent so repulsive—so no one would push past it. It felt like . . . like . . .”
“Falling headfirst into a giant spittoon,” Jared said.
Blaed shuddered. Thera and Lia turned a little green.
“If I throw up on you, it’s your own fault,” Thera said. She took a quick sip of whiskey.
Lia pressed a hand to h
er stomach and swallowed. “Don’t talk about throwing up.” Releasing Thera’s hand, she sat back. “Is he broken?”
Thera’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I had the impression this was done hurriedly.”
Lia nodded. “Because it was meant to be temporary. He could have been broken back to his Birthright Jewel.”
“What’s the point of all this?” Blaed asked.
Jared eased back onto the bench. “Destroying the one Queen capable of opposing Dorothea SaDiablo.”
“But Lia isn’t the Gray—” Blaed stopped.
Jared knew the moment Blaed put some of the pieces together and realized Lia must be more than just a young Queen serving in the Gray Lady’s court.
The young Warlord Prince swore quietly, passionately.
Lia squirmed.
“So Garth’s the only one who knows who the enemy is,” Blaed said through clenched teeth, “but there’s no way to find out.”
“Not for a few more days,” Thera said. “By then, all the runners I cut will have withered enough for him to break through.”
Lia closed her eyes. “A few more days,” she said wearily.
Jared slipped an arm around her shoulders to support her. “We’ve got a few advantages now. First, there were three buttons. That means three attempts to signal someone or leave an indication of our direction have been fouled. Second, whoever’s following us isn’t going to expect slaves to be wearing their Jewels.”
“Unless the bastard somehow reported that you’re wearing the Red,” Blaed pointed out. “But you’re right that they’ll have more opposition than they’re expecting.”
“And third,” Jared continued, “we’re less than three days away from my home village. If we push, we might be able to make it in two.”
“No,” Lia said, trying to pull away from him. “We knew bringing people out of Raej would be risky, and it was a risk they’d have to share for the chance of freedom. But I’m not going to let a village of people who have nothing at stake take the risk of having Dorothea’s wrath descend on them.”
Jared looked at Blaed and Thera. “My father is the Warlord of Ranon’s Wood.” If the war in Shalador had reached a small village like Ranon’s Wood . . . No. He wasn’t going to think about that. Couldn’t think about that. “We can get shelter and help there. And we can get a Coach to take us to the mountain pass.” He squeezed Lia’s shoulder. “The Gray Lady’s warriors would be waiting at the pass for you, wouldn’t they?”
